


Uptown Girl (Alternate)

by siophiefandom



Category: Pretty Little Liars
Genre: F/F, paily
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:55:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,818
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22306771
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/siophiefandom/pseuds/siophiefandom
Summary: When I received the "Uptown Girl" prompt last year, I originally thought about doing a series of one-shots. This is one of them. Paily (Paige McCullers, Emily Fields). Rated T for some mature languageOriginally posted to fanfiction dot net, January 10, 2020
Relationships: Emily Fields/Paige McCullers
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	Uptown Girl (Alternate)

"Ooh, Fields!" Hank said ominously, barely holding back the laughter. "You definitely drew the short straw today!"

"That's what you call a baptism by fire," Earl chimed in.

Emily shook her head subtly, managing to smile. She knew, since she was a rookie – not to mention, the only female mechanic in the shop – that she was going to put up with a lot of teasing from the guys until she proved that she belonged there. She looked at the video feed of the garage on the monitor in the break room and saw a 2019 Mustang muscle car, fully loaded. It was in pristine condition, as if it had just come off the factory floor that week.

"Psssh," she said dismissively, "I've been working on Mustangs since I was in diapers! Piece of cake!"

"You don't understand," Hank said, communicating as much with his hands as with his burly voice and thick Brooklyn accent. "That there is McCullers' Mustang. And McCullers is very particular about that there Mustang!"

"Oh, whatever." Emily said dismissively, waving him off.

She wasn't cocky, but she knew her stuff. She'd grown up working on cars with her dad, in his garage. Wherever the Army sent him over the course of his long career, it wasn't long before people found out about his knack for fixing anything that had an engine. Once that news got out, people started bringing their cars to him. Whatever the problem and whatever the car Wayne Fields was able to tinker with it until it was running like new. And Emily had been at his side ever since she could remember. She started out holding the flashlight and fetching tools for him, but, as time went by, she got hands-on under the hood herself. That time with her father taught her a lot. She was more than ready for trade school, when the time came, and while she was there, she made a lot of believers out of the boys there who didn't think that a girl could do handle the job.

"Everything's got to past inspection," Hank continued. "And if there's so much as a spark plug with the logo facing the wrong way, McCullers will call you out on it."

"Well, then I'll just have to make sure that everything's perfect," Emily said confidently. "That's what the customers pay us for, right?"

Hank had been trying to scare Emily, but she wasn't concerned. She was used to persnickety inspections. You don't grow up in a house of a career Army officer without knowing how to make sure all of the details are just right: The sheets always taut on the bed, the crease perfectly straight on the slacks, or an engine so clean that you could eat off of it.

Emily opened the back door into the garage and got her first full view of McCullers' Mustang. She let out a whistle. The guys were right: McCullers obviously didn't fool around. The car was in incredible shape. It even smelled brand new. She felt a tingle of anticipation as she pulled the lever to open the hood. When she walked around to the front, she couldn't help smiling. It was going to be fun.

* * *

After Emily finished tuning up the car and checking everything twice, Earl put a fatherly arm around her shoulder. "Now, McCullers is going to want you in there for the final," he told her, "but don't expect no conversation. McCullers don't talk to nobody in a jumpsuit. Everything got to go through Johnny."

Emily mentally corrected Earl's grammar and nodded her head, smiling to herself as she discounted everything he had just told her. She understood the whole chain-of-command, talk-to-the-boss thing; another thing that she learned growing up an Army brat. And she wasn't intimidated by rich people, having spent her high school years in Rosewood, a wealthy suburb of Philadelphia.

"He'll talk to me," she said softly, but unwaveringly. She could tell McCullers' type from the type of car he drove: The rich, macho dude who was obviously trying to compensate for something by buying a big, flashy sports car. He was the kind who would scoff at the thought of a _girl_ working on his car (or even driving his car, for that matter), but she knew that, with a little flirty smile and a subtle wink, she'd have him eating out of his hand.

"Oooh!" Hank bellowed, rocking from side to side, "The kid's cocky!"

Emily shrugged. Rich people didn't impress her much. Deep down, everyone was the same.

Emily stood in front of the mirror and redid her ponytail. Taking a step back, she made sure that everything was in place and that her seams were straight. She did a couple of practice pouts at her reflection, just to get into the right headspace.

Inspections were done in the showroom, never the garage. Customers never got to see the garage. It would be like letting parents observer their children in surgery.

The door to the mechanics' lounge opened and Emily saw Johnny's arm, in a crisp white shirt that rolled back just far enough to expose the Patek-Philippe watch on his wrist. "Fields!"

Emily nodded as she took a step towards the door and then looked back at her fellow mechanics with a roll of her eyes and a sly smile. "Thank you," she said politely to Johnny as the door closed behind her and she entered the showroom, where she caught sight of McCullers. Her jaw dropped. Her shoulders dropped. Her stomach dropped. Her legs got a little shaky. Her eyes went from bottom to top, starting with McCullers' Italian shoes, working up past her perfectly creased designer slacks and the tastefully unbuttoned silk shirt before finally settling on the smug smile and piercing eyes on her face.

 _Those sons of bitches,_ she thought to herself. _They could have told me that McCullers was a woman._

McCullers was definitely not overcompensating with a muscle car. The car was more like an extension of who she was. In fact, seeing McCullers standing there, Emily couldn't imagine her driving any other car. Any other car would have been inadequate and weak. All of Emily's bravado left her. She struggled to keep her eyes from staring meekly at the floor, forcing herself to stare at her supervisor as he led McCullers through the inspection. Emily didn't notice that her left foot was sliding from left to right like a windshield wiper.

After what felt like an eternity, McCullers gave Johnny a firm handshake and climbed into her car. Only then, and only briefly, did she look over at Emily, and Emily would've sworn that she shot her a smile. There may have been a quick wink, too, but Emily was certain that she had only dreamed that.

There was no doubt about the smile on Johnny's face when he came over to her. "Kid," he said, clapping his hand on her shoulder, "you did great!"

Emily said something – she hoped it was "thank you" – before she turned tail and ran back to the safety of the mechanics' lounge. She closed the door behind her and leaned her head back against it, letting out a deep breath. All of a sudden, she heard a huge cheer from all of the other mechanics, and she was jolted back into reality. She had paused at the door, enjoying a private moment, as if it were the end of a first date, not thinking that she was behaving like an infatuated schoolgirl in a room full of mechanics whom she was trying desperately to show that she was just one of the guys.

Fortunately, the guys assumed that it was the intimidating experience that had taken Emily's breath away, not the undeniable hotness of Ms. McCullers.

"Well?" Hank asked with a knowing smile.

Emily sighed, annoyed. "No, Hank," she admitted grudgingly, "McCullers didn't talk to me." All of a sudden, she punched him sharply in the chest. "And how come you didn't tell me that McCullers was a woman?" she said accusingly.

"Whoa, fellas!" Hank turned towards the other mechanics, rubbing his chest mockingly, pretending that it didn't hurt, which it actually kind of did. "Do you think our own Ms. Fields has a little crush on Ms. McCullers!"

"My ass!" Emily said sardonically. "She's an uptown girl! No way I would go for some snobby, stuck-up, rich girl like that!"

Paige was fidgety on the ride home. Her leg was bouncing up and down uncontrollably, and she was tapping her thumb on the steering wheel. She must've run her fingers through her hair a few hundred times.

At a stop light, she gunned the engine and smiled. _Purring like a kitten_ , she mused. It wasn't a surprise. They always took care of her baby whenever she took it into the shop. That wasn't what had her all fidgety.

Paige's mind flashed back to the cute mechanic's eyes; the shy, almost terrified look that she had seen there. She was used to being intimidating. She made even the male mechanics, who were older and much more experienced than this new girl, nervous when she did her final inspection; worried that there she'd find a smudge on the leather or a scratch on the bumper. But there was something different about this new girl; a vulnerability that brought out Paige's protective side. She wanted to wrap her arms around her and let her know that everything would be okay – or, maybe, wrap her legs around her. Paige chuckled to herself, letting that last thought die before it reached maturity.

She was being a fool. She didn't even know the girl's name.

Johnny leapt to his feet when he saw Paige McCullers' Mustang pull up. He pulled on his jacket and straightened his tie before dashing over to open the door for her. "Ms. McCullers," he said enthusiastically. Paige stepped out of the car, and Johnny closed the door behind her. "Is everything all right?" He was a little worried. It hadn't even been a week since Emily had serviced the car.

Paige nodded her head with a weak smile before her face dropped into a frown. "She's just been running a little rough."

Johnny mirrored Paige's concerned look. "I'm so terribly sorry, Ms. McCullers," he oozed. "Emily… she's new. But I can assure you that we fully inspected her work before I signed off on it. But don't worry, we'll…"

"Oh, no, no no!" Paige waved her hands frantically, cutting him off.

This wasn't going as planned. She only wanted to find out the mechanic's name; she didn't want to get anybody in trouble. "No, it's not _Emily_ 's fault. Everything was great when I drove out of here on Thursday," she assured him. "I… uh…" Paige rolled her eyes. "I stupidly let my cousin drive it over the weekend, and he's a little heavy on the accelerator."

Paige nodded her head, expecting Johnny to nod back, but he tilted his head instead. He was a little confused. He had never seen Paige like that; nervous, not totally on top of her game. Paige mistook it as skepticism, so she doubled-down on the Emily card. "In… in fact, I'd like it if _Emily_ could take care of my car from now on." There was still a bit of novelty in just saying the name, "Emily."

"Absolutely, Ms. McCullers," Johnny oozed. He ushered her to the customers' lounge. "I'll make sure that Emily services your car whenever you bring it in. Now, if you could just make yourself comfortable, Emily will have your car tuned up and back to normal in no time."

The mechanics listened up when they heard a beep on the intercom. "Emily Fields." All eyes turned to Emily as she stood up, eager for the job. Her eyes dimmed when she looked at the monitor that showed what car was in the bay. She started to get mad. She didn't know what kind of game Paige was playing. There was _nothing_ wrong with that car. She couldn't believe that she might lose her job because some spoiled, rich girl was being anal about her car.

"Emily," Johnny said as he stood up to meet her, "Ms. McCullers' Mustang has been idling a little rough."

"Mr. Handler," Emily said, waving her hands frantically. "That engine was perfect! You checked it yourself!" Her voice was getting high-pitched as she fought back the tears. "I _know_ what I'm doing!" she pleaded.

Johnny reached out towards Emily but restrained his instinct to give her a hug. He had been trained on what was appropriate in the workplace. If he wouldn't do it to one of the male mechanics, he shouldn't do it to Emily.

Emily didn't need a hug. She needed Paige McCullers to shut the hell up. It was the kind of stunt that she would've expected from one of those rich, male, wannabe piston-heads who drove a car like Paige's; finding something wrong with her work for no other reason than that she was a woman. But she didn't expect it from another woman. Paige had to have experienced discrimination and dismissal by men; if anyone should have been sensitive to what it was like for Emily as a female in a male-dominated job, it should've been someone like Paige.

Emily realized that Johnny had been talking all the while that she had been cursing Paige McCullers out in her head. It would have been embarrassing to ask him to repeat it all, but she had no idea what he had said, and he was standing there waiting for a reply.

"I'm… I'm sorry, Mr. Handler, what did you say?"

He put his hands up, pumping them back and forth the same as he might have pumped the brakes in a car, urging her to calm down. "I said to relax," he explained. He had a comforting smile on his face. "Look, I know that you do good work, or I wouldn't have hired you. And I know that you did a good job on that car, because I go over every inch of our clients' cars before I sign off on them." He tilted his head and gave Emily a wry look. "And Ms. McCullers knows that you did a good job, too." Emily bit her lip skeptically. "She didn't bring it in because she's unhappy with your work," he explained. "She let her cousin drive the car, and he was a little rough on the accelerator." Johnny rolled his eyes. "You know how it is with these rich types. A little paranoid whenever someone else drives their car." Emily nodded, smiling knowingly. "I'm sure that engine's just as pristine as it was when you finished working on it, okay? But just take a look for the customer's sake and make sure everything's tiptop." He looked over his glasses and nodded, wordlessly asking Emily to confirm that she understood.

Emily returned his nod with her most confident smile. "I'll take care of it," she said with no hesitation, and she took a step towards the door out of his office.

"Oh, Emily?" Emily turned around, and Johnny winked at her, signaling that it was good news. "She, uh… she said she only wants you to work on her car from now on." He shrugged his shoulders. Emily nodded, only smiling when she turned back around and Johnny couldn't see.

Emily had a hard time concentrating on Paige's car when she got to the garage. She was also having hard keeping herself from smiling. She kept replaying Johnny's last words, wondering why it was that Paige had said that she didn't want anyone else to work on her car. She knew that it had to be a show of support; Paige, as a woman who had made it, throwing a little charity the way of a fellow woman who was still struggling. But her heart kept wondering, _What if there's something more to it?_

Paige was exactly the kind of woman who made Emily's heart melt: Confident and powerful; a woman who could take charge. And it didn't hurt that she was a hottie, with her auburn hair, broad shoulders and… "Shit!"

Emily heard a clang as she dropped her torque wrench. She was lucky it didn't hit the car's door when it bounced off the concrete floor. She shook her head to clear her thoughts. She needed to focus.

And, besides, she knew deep down that Paige couldn't possibly have been interested in her. Rich women like that don't fall for their mechanics.

Emily stepped into the showroom and closed the door behind her. She had a stupid, schoolgirl grin on her face, and she glanced over at Paige, happy that Paige wasn't looking in her direction. Paige did look over, though, as if she'd felt Emily's eyes on her, and Emily looked away. As Johnny walked Paige through the inspection of Emily's car, they played that cat-and-mouse game a couple more times, one looking over at the other and the other quickly looking away. The fourth time it happened, Emily defiantly refused to look away, playfully rolling her eyes instead. Paige dipped her head at that, and Emily's breath hitched. She hadn't expected that reaction. It was just about the most adorable thing she'd ever seen. Yeah, Paige was confident and in control, but she was just a big teddy bear.

Paige shook Johnny's hand after she signed off on Emily's work. As he held the door for her, she looked over at Emily, who smiled politely. Paige gave her a nod, and Johnny almost fell over backwards. He had never seen Paige acknowledge a mechanic so blatantly before. Occasionally, when a mechanic did a stellar job, Paige would tell him to be sure and thank the mechanic for her, but she had never otherwise acknowledged any of his team members. He looked over at Emily and tightened his lips in pride over the fact that one of his mechanics' work had made such a big impression on one of their best customers.

Paige tapped both of her index fingers against the steering wheel as she waited for the light to change. She didn't know what her next move would be. She couldn't keep dropping her car off at the shop every week. That would just be weird. She thought about having Smith and Wollensky send over a steak, with the simple note, "Well Done," but that seemed too nerdy. She laughed to herself just at the thought of it. Besides, she thought, Emily was probably a vegan. She just had that look about her; someone who wouldn't think of hurting any other living being. There was a softness, a gentleness about her. Paige was smiling just thinking about it. But it was deeper than that. _Pure,_ Paige thought. Not only was she vegan, but she was the kind of woman who would volunteer at the animal shelter on her day off, taking all the puppies out of their cages and frolicking with them. Paige thought about getting her a puppy but realized that the idea wasn't practical. She probably lived in a building that didn't allow dogs.

"What?" Emily knew that something was up by the way the rest of the team stared at her when she walked through the door. She self-consciously looked at her jumpsuit, making sure everything was clean and in place, and raised her hands questioningly, wondering what they were going to tease her for this time.

Joe and Mikey took two sideways steps away from each other, exposing an arrangement of flowers that was sitting on the table.

Emily gasped. "Oh, how pretty!" she exclaimed, appreciating the fact that the guys had taken the initiative to brighten up the room with some flowers. The other mechanics were still smiling like idiots, but nobody was saying anything. "Am I supposed to chip in for these? How much?"

Joey reached back and grabbed a card that had been affixed to a stake among the flowers. Emily's brow furrowed as he handed it over. "Guys, this is sweet, but my birthday's not till November!" She opened the envelope and covered her mouth in shock.

"Ya know, I've been working here for 15 years," Hank said. "I must've worked on three hundred cars. But nobody never sent me no flowers!" His voice was animated, in a playfully mocking way.

"You guys, I… this…" Emily could feel her face beginning to flush. "Nnnnngh…" She giggled nervously.

"Well, who are they from?" Mikey asked impatiently.

"A… uh… a satisfied customer!" The whole crew burst into laughter. "What?" Emily tried desperately to play it cool, but there was no question whom the flowers were from. She could feel herself starting to blush. The guys knew her well enough to know that no other customer could've gotten a reaction like that from her.

* * *

"When are flowers just flowers?" Emily took a sip of her cappuccino. She had spent the rest of that day and most of a sleepless night asking herself that question, and she was ready for a second opinion.

"Uh… when the chicken doesn't cross the road because he's cross-eyed?"

"When the…" Emily held the phone away from her face and gave it a puzzled look, as if she could actually see Hanna on the other end. She clicked her tongue when she realized what Hanna meant. "Hanna, it's not a riddle," she said impatiently. "I'm really asking?"

"When are flowers just flowers?" Hanna was confused.

"Yeah, like…" Emily huffed, frustrated, as she tried to explain without telling the whole truth. It seemed silly even to imagine that someone like Paige McCullers could go for a nobody like her. "Like, say you did a job for someone, and… and you did a really good job and… and that person winds up sending you flowers with a thank-you note."

"O. M. G., Em! Is she hot?"

"Is she…" Emily took a breath. She had been trying to keep her description as generic as possible. She didn't want to give too much away. "Who said anything about a _she_? What if it's a perverted old man?"

"Um, are you kidding me?" Hanna rolled her eyes. "You wouldn't be calling me if it were some perverted old man." She wiggled against her pillow smugly. People always dismissed her as not being very intelligent, but she had a lot of emotional intelligence. "Just spill, Em. Why are you playing games?"

Emily sighed. "Okay," she conceded. "You're right. It's a wo…"

Before she could even finish, Hanna jumped in. "Who?"

"Paige McCullers." Emily said the name dryly, knowing that Hanna wouldn't recognize the name.

"Paige McCullers? As in the Rosewood McCullerses?"

"I… She's not that McCullers!"

Hanna's head jerked away in a moment of self-doubt. People were always correcting her. It took her a second for her confidence to return. "She is so!" she protested.

"Hanna, no she's not!"

"Toby signed a contract with her!"

"Toby?" Emily set up on the bed, crisscrossing her legs. "What are you talking about?"

"Caleb," Hanna called into the other room. "Who's that woman who signed that contract with Toby on the old McCullers house?"

"Uh…" It took a moment for him to come up with the name. "Paige McCullers!" Emily heard his faint reply.

"Paige McCullers, thank you!" Hanna said the words to Emily rather than her boyfriend, slapping her hand against her thigh, vindicated.

"How could she be from Rosewood?" Emily's question was almost rhetorical. "I would've known her!" Paige was roughly Emily's age, and Rosewood was one of those towns that was so small that it felt as if everyone knew everyone else.

Hanna shrugged, looking at her nails. "I don't know. I didn't know her either."

Once again, Emily heard Caleb chime in from the other room. "Her parents sent her out to boarding school in California," he explained. "They wanted her to have the best shot at getting a swimming scholarship to Stanford."

Emily's head started to spin. _Paige was a swimmer, too._ If they had grown up together, they probably would've been teammates. And best friends. Internally, she cursed Paige's parents for having sent her all the way to the other side of the county.

"Emily? Hello?"

"Huh?" Emily was suddenly startled back to the present.

"So, do you want to?"

"Do I want to what?" Emily's tone made it clear how annoyed she was over the fact that Hanna had pulled her out of her reverie about growing up best friends with Paige, in and out of the pool.

Hanna sighed, also not hiding her annoyance. She started over. "Paige is going back to Rosewood this weekend to sign off on Toby's progress. She's also going to meet Caleb, to talk about smart-home tech. You can come down and hang out with us, if you want."

Emily's heart leapt at the thought of seeing Paige outside of the garage, wearing something other than that stupid blue jumpsuit that she had to wear when she was working.

"I don't know, Hanna." The realist in her was taking over. "Wouldn't it look funny if I just randomly showed up in Rosewood?"

"So? She sent you flowers, right? Since when do you have to be subtle?"

"She sent me _thank-you_ flowers," Emily said combatively. "Like, 'Hey, we're women, let's stick together!' flowers. It doesn't mean she's interested in me."

"It doesn't mean she _not_ interested in you," Hanna said under her breath. She'd seen this kind of behavior from Emily before; trying to talk herself out of a good thing. But Emily wouldn't have called if they had only been thank-you flowers.

"What did you say?"

Hanna ignored Emily's request for her to repeat what she'd said. "So, you're coming back to visit your hometown. Paige doesn't know that you haven't been back here since your parents moved!" Hanna could tell by the silence that Emily wasn't buying that excuse. She tried again. "You're coming to visit me." Again, silence. She breathed heavily. "Okay, what about that truck that Toby's been working on for ages? You're coming back to help him with that!"

_Abel has a good job & is a responsible screw,  
but many intelligent women seem drawn  
to Crazy Horse, a descendant of Cain._

Paige tortured herself with the lines of that poem as she lay alone in her bed, unable to sleep. She had done it again. She always fell for women like Emily; not the intelligent, high-society types that she was supposed to fall for. In high school, it had been Marsha, the stoner, whose grades would have gotten her kicked out of school if her dad hadn't donated that state-of-the-art computer lab. In college, it was the team's towel girl, the girl who cleaned the tables in the cafeteria, the campus security officer who helped when she was locked out of her dorm. Plus the dozen or so girls whom she'd crushed on but never pursued.

Emily should have been in that last category. What was she thinking, sending her flowers? And, of course, there was no way to avoid her, since she'd told Johnny that she didn't want anyone else working on her car.

She rolled over from her left side to her right. She needed to get some sleep. She had that long drive down to Rosewood in the morning.

Paige, who had been poring over every detail of the proposal that Toby and Caleb were going over with her, suddenly seemed detached. She had begun simply nodding her head and saying, "Uh huh" whenever Toby or Caleb paused. Toby, puzzled, looked up at Caleb, and then they both looked at Paige, following her gaze to the sidewalk in front of the old McCullers house. There, Emily, wearing a pair of denim shorts and sleeveless denim blouse, was standing with her back to them, talking to Hanna.

It had been a well-choreographed encounter. Hanna, walking east, ran into Emily, heading west, precisely in front of the window of the room where Paige and the guys were meeting. After a brief hug, they shifted positions so that Emily had her back to Paige, showing off her legs and allowing Paige to look without fear of being caught staring. It seemed a bit much to Emily, but Hanna had insisted.

After the long silence, Paige cleared her throat. "I'm sorry. Where were we?"

Toby and Caleb looked at each other again. "This might be a good time to take a break," Toby suggested.

"Thanks." With Paige's veneer of professionalism cracked, she apologized again and stood up and stretched. She was trying to figure out how she could maneuver herself outside before Emily wandered away.

Caleb also stood up. "If you'll excuse me," he said, tilting his head in the direction of Emily and Hanna, "That's my girlfriend out there. I think she's giving me a not-so-subtle signal that she wants to see me."

"Oh, yeah, by all means." Paige found herself feeling relieved that it was Caleb's girlfriend and not Emily's girlfriend that Emily was talking too. "I… I think I'll get a bit of fresh air myself." She tried to appear nonchalant as she fairly dashed for the door.

When Caleb caught up to Hanna, Emily swiveled around, casually glancing at Paige's house. When she saw Paige standing on the porch, she headed over.

"Hi, Emily!" Paige smiled, deciding not to play the game that she didn't remember Emily's name or that she wasn't pleasantly surprised to see her in Rosewood. "What brings you to Rosewood?"

Emily spread her arms out wide in disbelief. "I'm _from_ here," she said, as if it should have been obvious. She playfully punched Paige's shoulder, mainly as an excuse to make physical contact.

Paige's eyes widened at the news that Emily was from Rosewood. She cursed her parents internally for having sent her to school in California. If she had gone to high school in Rosewood, she might have gotten to know Emily. They might even have been friends, and, maybe, gone through their sexual awakening together and helped each other come to terms with being gay. She didn't doubt that Emily was gay; not after the looks that Emily had given her in the garage that last time. Those looks didn't mean that Emily was attracted to Paige, necessarily, but that wasn't the way that straight women look at other women.

"I didn't know," Paige said shyly, showing Emily a side of her that she hadn't seen before.

Emily giggled nervously. "Thanks for the flowers," she said, lightly touching the same shoulder that she had just punched. "They're really pretty." Paige dipped her head. Emily bit her lip. She found the strong, vulnerable type irresistible. She lowered her head so that she could look Paige in the eye and coax her into raising her head up again.

"Well, you know." Paige shrugged her shoulders. "Pretty flowers for a pretty lady." _Stupid!_ "I'm sorry – that sounded really… forward… and corny, didn't it?"

Paige's head started to lower again, but Emily intercepted it, with a hand to her cheek. "Actually, it sounded pretty sweet." She leaned in and placed a light kiss on Paige's other cheek.

Paige cleared her throat, using her fist to cover her mouth as she did. She stared stupidly at Emily, who stared stupidly back. Neither of them knew what to do next. Emily turned her head to look for Hanna, as if Hanna could somehow help her. Paige looked in that direction, too, and Toby caught her eye. He quickly gave Hanna a kiss and headed back towards the house.

"Well, anyway," Paige said, rubbing the back of her neck, "I guess I'd better get back into that meeting." Emily nodded, and Paige turned away.

The whole way home, Emily was beating herself up over how forward she had been. She was losing her mind. She needed someone to calm her down, and she kept reaching for the phone to call Hanna, but she held off. Hanna wasn't the answer. Hanna was the one who had gotten her into that predicament in the first place. It was Hanna who had told her to dress to show off her legs and Hanna who had come up with the plan to hold a fake conversation in front of Paige's house. Emily smashed her hand on the steering wheel with a large huff of breath. "Hanna didn't say to kiss her," she said out loud, chastising herself. What a cheap slut she must have looked like to Paige. As if it wasn't bad enough that she worked a blue-collar job, she had to go to Rosewood and confirm every stereotype that rich people had about the working class. _She probably thinks I've been in more beds than a traveling salesman._

Emily glanced at the display on her dashboard when her phone rang. It was an unknown number from the 212 area code. New York City. Probably a scammer. Ordinarily, Emily would have let it go to voice mail, but she wasn't making the best decisions that day. Besides, even talking to someone who was trying to swindle her out of her life savings sounded like a better alternative than drowning in her toxic thoughts.

"Hello." Her defenses were fully up, fully evident in the sharp tone of her voice.

"Hello, Emily?"

"Speaking," she sighed, running her finger through her hair.

"Oh, hi." Paige was a little put off by Emily's gruff responses, until she remembered that she was calling out of the blue and Emily didn't know who it was. "Uh, this is Paige… Paige McCullers." Emily's eyes went wide and she couldn't speak. Paige started to panic over the silence. "From Rosewood?"

Emily took a deep breath and tried to sound calm, like a normal human being. "Oh, hi, Paige."

"Hi. Listen, I hope it's okay. Caleb said he was a friend of yours, so I asked him for your number."

Emily nodded. "That's okay," she affirmed.

"Great. So, anyway, I finished up at the house, and I was wondering whether you were still around Rosewood? Maybe we could grab a drink at the Radley, or something?"

"I'm… uh…" She took a look at her GPS. "I'm actually about an hour outside New York," she said sadly.

"Oh, really?" Paige sounded disappointed.

"Yeah. I could probably turn around, but by the time I got back there…" Emily trailed off.

"No, I get it. I wouldn't want to make you do all that driving."

"Sorry…"

"Don't be," Paige said confidently. "Just bad timing."

"Yeah."

"Yeah. Well, drive safely!"

"Thanks – you, too." Emily bit her tongue. _Stupid!_ "I… I mean, whenever you head back to the City… I mean,I assume that you're heading back to the city… at some point…" _Oh, God – just shut up, Emily! You're making it worse!_

Paige laughed good-naturedly. "Yeah, I'm heading back to the City at some point. Maybe we can grab a drink there sometime."

"Okay." Emily cringed as she realized that the tone of her voice made her sound like a college student accepting an assignment from her teacher.

"Okay," Paige parroted, "so, uh… have a good night!"

Emily had been lying. She was less than twenty minutes outside of Rosewood.

She lied because she knew what Paige was after: That girl in the booty shorts who probably gives it up on the first date. A downtown girl with half a brain but with a body that makes up for it. Someone she could manipulate into bed. And, if that was what Paige was after, she was after the wrong girl.

But the worst part was that Emily had played right into that stereotype. She looked like that girl, the way she'd dressed in Rosewood. And their phone conversation had airhead written all over it.

Part of her hoped that Paige actually would call her, once they got back to New York. She wanted a chance to show that she was more than just a downtown girl. If Paige wasn't interested, that would be the end of things. Then, Emily just have to call in sick whenever Paige had an appointment to get her car worked on. There was no way she'd be able to face her again.

* * *

Paige was, frankly, deflated by her phone call with Emily. She had thought that they had a connection, but Emily seemed distant on the phone. She didn't seem excited at all about the prospect of getting together for a drink. Paige worried that she had made a bad impression. She was so focused on getting the house taken care of that she didn't even respond to Emily's apparent flirting. She decided she'd better cool it for a while; give Emily – and herself – some time to process things before she pressed the issue.

So, she tried her best to play it cool, but she was going crazy. She didn't like it when things were unresolved. It wasn't that she needed to close the deal, so to speak, with Emily, but she needed to know whether or not she had a legitimate shot.

She made it till Wednesday before she broke down texted Emily.

**Hey, Emily. How's it going? Any chance I can collect on that raincheck? Tonight? :)**

Emily didn't see the text till her lunch break. It was just as well; she wouldn't have wanted to seem to eager by texting Paige back right away.

**Sure. What time?**

**Let's say 5? I'll pick you up?**

That wasn't going to work for Emily. Going for drinks in her work clothes didn't fit in with her resolution to make sure that Paige got to see all sides of her.

**How about I meet you at your office?**

Paige responded with a thumbs-up and the address of her office.

Emily dropped into Johnny's office and asked for the rest of the day off. He had no problem with that; Emily had bailed him out plenty of times by working late and by making him look good in front of their customers. Emily rushed home and showered and got started on putting together her look for the evening. It wasn't about impressing Paige; it was about showing her who Emily really was. She smiled at her reflection as she took one final look. This was it: Make or break.

* * *

Emily made it to Paige's office with time to spare. Punctuality was another of the things that had been instilled in her from her Army father. So, the long wait for the elevator and the wrong turn that she made after it stopped on Paige's floor didn't rattle her. She had time to spare.

Emily greeted the receptionist outside the office. "Emily Fields for Paige McCullers."

The receptionist smiled up at her. "Welcome, Ms. Fields," she said as she got up and led the way to Paige's door. "She's expecting you."

 _I'll bet she is,_ Emily thought to herself.

"Ms. McCullers?" Paige looked up and saw Emily. Her jaw dropped. "Ms. Fields to see you."

The shocked look on Paige's face was strike one, in Emily's book. It was as if she'd been expecting Emily to show up for drinks in the city wearing an old pair of jeans and a Lady Antebellum T-shirt.

When the receptionist stepped back to her desk, Paige stood from behind hers and took a step towards Emily. "Wow!"

"I clean up pretty well?" Emily said derisively.

"You… look…" Paige closed her eyes and sighed. "absolutely amazing."

 _Nice save_. Even the voice in Emily's head was being sarcastic.

"Are you ready to go?"

Emily nodded. "Where are we headed?"

"Philippe's."

Emily's head snapped back a little when she heard that. It was her turn to be shocked by the unexpected. Although Paige had thrown the name out casually, Philippe's was one of the fancier bars in Manhattan. It wasn't exactly a casual dress kind of place, and it wasn't the kind of place that you could just walk into without a reservation. The fact that Paige had made a reservation meant that she had anticipated that Emily would be dressed appropriately.

But Emily wasn't ready to award her points for that just yet. After all, Paige could've made back-up reservations at a more casual bar, too, in case Emily showed up for their date in her work clothes.

* * *

The conversation over drinks was stilted, with plenty of long, uncomfortable silences. Paige kept biting her lip and twisting her fingers together. She was trying to give it some time and let things develop, but that wasn't really her speed. She was the kind of person who had to face things head on. Finally, she blurted out, "Are you okay? You seem a bit…"

Paige didn't complete the thought, so Emily prodded her. "A bit what?" She straightened her back in a defensive pose.

That was the word Paige had been searching for. "Defensive?"

Emily shrugged her left shoulder. "I guess I am, maybe. A little?"

"Because of me?"

"Well, let's face it, Paige, it's hard to think that you had high expectations for this night. I mean, your face almost fell off in shock when your assistant opened the door and you saw how I was dressed."

Paige dipped her head. "Yeah, I guess I was a little shocked." She straightened up and looked into Emily's eyes. "Honestly, I'm a little shocked every time I see you, because you're just so beautiful. Every time I see you, it's as if I'm discovering an entirely new aspect of your beauty. It's kind of like re-reading an epic poem and discovering some new hidden gem in it that you'd never noticed before."

Emily smiled shyly, lowering her gaze from Paige's. "Thanks." She stared at her finger as it traced shapes on the table between them. "I guess… you know. It's just hard, because..." Emily tightened her lip and shifted in her chair, suddenly turning serious. "Well, a lot of people see me in my uniform, and they assume I'm just some dumb grease monkey, you know? As if cars are all I know." Paige nodded in empathy. "And, especially..." – Emily looked Paige in the eyes – "Well, no offense, but rich people. They tend to treat mechanic as if we're - the help."

Paige took both of Emily's hands. "I never thought of you like that for a second!" Her stare was piercing and sincere. "Emily, you're a well-educated, highly skilled artisan. I know how much education it takes to do your job. I would no sooner think of you as 'the help' than I would my surgeon."

Emily ran her fingers through her hair as an excuse to pull her hands away from Paige's. "Yeah, but…" Paige leaned her face in, to prod Emily to continue. "I'm sure you actually _talk_ to your surgeon."

Paige huffed softly. "Oh, that." She leaned back in her chair. "I mean, I guess I've got my defense mechanisms, too. You know, when you're a woman, and you go into a high-end shop like that, people just assume that you don't know anything about cars, so they try to take advantage of you." She leaned back over the table. "I guess I've learned, over the years, that if you come off as a no-nonsense bitch, people are less likely to try to pull the wool over your eyes."

Emily shrugged. "I get that," she conceded, nodding before she added, "But we're an honest shop."

"I know," Paige said softly.

"Hmm." Emily fidgeted in her seat. She lowered her voice almost to a whisper. She didn't want to seem accusatory. "So, you _really_ weren't expecting me to show up in some old jeans and a t-shirt?"

"Absolutely not!"

"And you're telling me that you didn't have a back-up plan, in case I did?"

"Are you kidding me?" Paige smiled confidently. "A Rosewood girl?"

Emily tilted her head. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Paige could tell from Emily's tone that she was flattered by what she had said, not offended. She played up the Rosewood angle. "You know, Rosewood! Home of the fancy parties and over-the-top events! We Rosewood girls… We definitely know how to put on the ritz!"

Emily rolled her eyes and chuckled. "Well, thanks. I guess."

Paige smiled and let out a long breath. Her expression got serious. "Well, to be totally honest, I _did_ have a back-up plan," she said softly. Before Emily's face drifted back to disappointment, Paige put her hands up and quickly added, "But only in case you had to work late and didn't have time to change. I know evening dates can be inconvenient. I didn't want you to take you some place and make you feel uncomfortable."

Emily chuckled. "You didn't want _me_ to feel uncomfortable? You wouldn't feel uncomfortable taking me here if I were in my work clothes?"

Paige smiled warmly. "I would take you anywhere."

Emily leaned in playfully. "So, does that mean you're going to talk to me at the shop, the next time you bring your car in?"

Paige leaned in, too, with her face almost meeting's Emily's. "Maybe!" she teased, grinning impishly.

* * *

There were a few weeks – and a couple more dates – before Paige's car was due in the shop again. Emily had been playing it cool with the other mechanics, avoiding all the questions they asked about Paige after Paige sent her the flowers. All of the mechanics (and even Johnny) were eager to see how things would play out, once Paige and Emily were in the same room together again.

Emily stood ramrod straight during the inspection. Johnny thought that she was nervous about seeing Paige again. Since she never talked about Paige, everyone assumed that Emily had shot her down after the flowers. Johnny gave her a discreet a wink and a thumbs up, to let her know that the inspection was going well and that Paige didn't seem to be holding a grudge. Emily nodded back subtly, when Paige had her head under the hood and couldn't see her.

"How does everything look, Ms. McCullers?"

Paige smiled broadly. "Perfect. As always!"

"That's what we strive for!" Johnny, beaming with pride, held open the driver's side door, but Paige walked the other away. She walked to the corner of the room where Emily was standing and took both her hands, giving her a kiss. They heard a cheer from the guys in the back, who had been watching it all on the monitor.

"Thank you," she said to Johnny who was still holding the door open, too stunned to respond. She turned to look to Emily, who gave her shy little a wave before she climbed into the driver's seat.

Emily bit her lip. She hadn't expected the kiss. She knew that she was going to be teased mercilessly, once she got back to the break room, but she didn't care. It was worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> The lines that haunted Paige when she couldn't sleep are from the poem, "Returning to Earth," by Jim Harrison.
> 
> Thanks to PaigeMarie712 for the original prompt – and to YOU, for reading this! Much love!


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